Foreigners

A Story by Bookerbrant

A short peice about 'those bloody foreigners'.

Foreigners

By Booker Brant

Foreigners can be interesting, or annoying. But hated and feared?

It is always fun to immerse a staid family visitor in what is, for you, a familiar cultural experience. Just to see the reactions. It might not be as fun watching a stranger go through the same experience. Especially when they are struggling with a deeply held part of your upbringing.

It is part of our shared cultural conditioning that we are more patient, kind and inclusive with those we intend to invest a large amount of time with. But do we have to lessen our patience with those we will only meet once?

Or is it just a reflection of the stresses and anger we have built up, needing some form of release? Any release. Do those who the group are unlikely to support become an easy target?

Some suggest that ‘intolerant behaviour’ is just weaker group members flashing their group commitment. Displaying their membership to other members of the group.

But does intolerance have a point, or a use beyond that of tribalism?

To examine this, we should look worldwide through as many cultures as possible. Hoping to find a common thread in the reasoning, actions or benefits of the respective groups.

Something the intolerant are not traditionally good at, but we can at least draw from some common experiences.

Of course, being annoyed with changes is normal.

When your partner moves your toothbrush to the other side of the sink. Or when a foreigner expounds on views deemed unacceptable.

Your city may have introduced an excellent bus service, there was resistance to increased road tax, but eventually you got used to and were proud of the park and ride system. Finding it cheap and convenient. The city now deems it a defining success.

A visiting friend may joke about the ugly buses and lack of freedom. He only wants to speed down city streets in a sports car. That was your best friend last year, when he left.

You both loved your cars then, in fact it was what you had in common.

That has nothing to do you with how you feel about the family that just moved in next door though, does it. Does it?

Being annoyed is about differences and change, we can leave out the foreigner angle, that is just who we are as a species.

I have personally threatened with death a low coffe-table, for 'being so bloody stupid'. And do not get me started on the new can opener that has mysteriously replaced a reliable old friend.

And crying babies! But they are people and families. Cannot shout at them, even if I already am in my head.

Hold on a minute, I have looked after a screaming toddler. Poor thing, her Mom had to go away overnight. It was her first night away. Didn't get much sleep, stayed with the little tyke all night. Neighbours never said a word, would have been nice if they did. I would have given them a piece of my mind. No, cannot shout at people.

Life is so confusing, and annoying.

And those bloody immigrants just moved in across the street. The smell of that food. What are they cooking? Well I'm not taking this.

Many if not most of the annoying traits that foreigner exhibit are cultural differences. Obviously, you’re cooking smells as bad to them. No?

No-one likes the smell of another group. It is foreign. Therefore unknown, and dangerous. This is just an evolutionary response. To a foreigner your body odour is offensive. Every group dislikes the personal odours of every other. Smelly foreigner.

One of the earliest signs of integration is an attempt to mask your smell. Someone may be just integrated enough to realise that his smell is unappreciated. Bloody foreigners, always wearing too much cologne!

To quote a much loved comedy show, "I wouldn't trust him to sit the right way on a toilet seat".

But what is 'the right way'. Well I know what the wrong way is. You do not stand on the seat and squat over the toilet. We have moved forward in civilisation since the days of the squat toilet. But then again sometimes I am tempted. These public toilets are left in a hell of a state, not putting my skin against that, disgusting.

Besides I am reliably told (by a foreigner), that the squatting position is actually healthy. Sitting creates unnatural kinks in the colon, apparently. I would be more afraid of a squatting prolapse, personally.

Besides I really do not know how to use a squat toilet. When forced to, it becomes a nightmare; where I am holding clothes laughably far from any activity, whilst balancing in an unfamiliar position over a bottomless pit of social death.

Perhaps a sit toilet is just as tricky for the uninitiated? No, that can't be right. I did it easy when I was just a toddler.

But then again that does remind me of the 'bones' issue.

My foreign girlfriend got quite embarrassed and angry with me once. We will SAY once for this analogy. Sotto voice she hissed, " Stop that, you're like a child, even a two year old does better'. What was I doing?

Well I had just attempted to eat a portion of the food that her mother had lovingly cooked. I had not realised that the meat still contained all the bones.

My food, she never ate. I am a proud cook and it took time to admit defeat. Flavourless. Need to chop through bone and fat, let the juices mix in cooking. Otherwise tastes horrible, apparently.

That favourite and popular dish I beautifully prepared for her family barbecue? Oh, sure the adults all had a spoonful, but the kids were all pulling faces! They just don’t get proper food. That’s the problem there, right enough.

No, cannot think like that. Each to his own.

Well no.

Even there we are tripped up.

The more I hear foreigners talk about others foreigners, the more I realise I feel the same way about them.

Many of the complaints I hear around me from people alien to me, about foreigners, are the same complaints I have regarding these same aliens. Can they not see their own behaviour? Are they not aware of their own actions?

Here I am nicely making allowances for cultural difference and they are complaining about the same things as I am!

'They are pushing up house prices’. 'They are too loud in public'. 'The shops in the high street are changing because of them'. 'School places are becoming unobtainable'. Hold on a minute, that was exactly how I felt about you when you came. Not so bloody long ago, now I come to think about it. Oh, I forgot. I am on my holiday here. I was complaining about the local population. How embarrassing.

This is getting confusing. Perhaps we are all alike. Maybe we do just like a good moan. I guess none of us like change. And maybe even the differences between my friends and I are bigger than those between cultures.

In one area we are definitely all alike. We can all hate, and we are all violent. And you know what? I know one more way we are the same. All of us abhor hatred and violence.

A familiar accent always brings a smile when you are far from home. And sometimes the face that goes with it may be foreign.

And often, national pride is upheld by those who only a few years ago were outsiders.

Because that is the thing about outsiders, they try harder. They appreciate the nuances of the society better. And they find a place where they can live and love, without compromising in their heart what makes them unique. Qualities that any society would be fortunate to acquire.

My national pride in the things my parents believed in has never diminished. Yet those immigrants, who my parent’s generation were so worried about, have children amongst those I regard as my national heroes.

So maybe that is the real reason we are afraid. We are afraid they might show us up. Well, can't really blame them for that.